The Mission
by jaggedjacket
Summary: Gaara and Tenten have to stay in a local inn, miles away from home on an important mission. The locals were difinatley something left to be desired, but the konoichi on the other hand... Me no own. Final chapter up.
1. Chapter 1

Gaara rolled his shoulders as he tried _not_ to place the acrid smell permeating from every corner of the homely town bar and inn. As welcoming as a mission was for the Kazekage, this was far from the amenities he was used to receiving at his comfy tower, and the scent of what he could only imagine was a combination of stale beer, damp molding wood and hillbilly sweat was less than desirable after such a long journey.

Tenten was coming back from the front desk, deftly avoiding some of the more troll-like figures that lurched towards her in a lecherous manner.

"One left, sorry, we'll have to share," she gave Gaara a small smile as she exchanged a key for a warm glass of beer.

"That's funny, I didn't think there was a lot of inbreeding in this part of the country," she mused at the less than desirable male figures lurking in the corners of the smelly bar attached to their accommodations for the night.

Gaara had to agree, though he stood perfectly still as he leaned next to the edge of the bar. The company around them was just as much of an eye-sore as the smell around them was rancid. He couldn't tell if his eyes were starting to water from the smell or from the mere sight of the locals.

He almost regretted taking this mission, as it wasn't technically fit for the Kazekage to traipse around the country with a single escort. Nor was it really safe, but the importance of the mission took precedence. The elders reluctantly had come to the conclusion that the Kazekage must go, after days of deliberation, but not after requiring a companion to accompany him. After finding no suitable candidate in Suna, they looked to their allies, the leaf, for someone to expertly fit the bill. The blade they were looking to recover from a feudal lord was extremely rare, extremely priceless, and extremely dangerous to procure. They needed someone who knew their way around weapons and explosives, as well as someone who could spot a fake blade a mile away and be decent at detecting traps. The feudal lord was skittish and would only relinquish the sword to the Kazekage himself. The sources for the information given actually seemed reliable, but they were to prepare for a trap anyways.

"I'm really glad that I don't have a room all to myself: I wouldn't want to give the impression to these guys that I was single." Tenten unconsciously moved closer to Gaara as two troglodyte-looking males bellied up to the bar beside her.

Gaara frowned at the pair, who were now peering over their glasses of home brewed piss-water to ogle the twin bunned konoichi openly. She cringed under their glare and her face showed that she had gotten a good whiff of sweaty armpit stank coming off of them in droves.

"I think I will go to bed early tonight," she said and pushed aside her cup, leaving the last few dregs of her beer. No doubt she was probably nauseated by the proximity of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Scum. He certainly was.

"It's late." He remarked without emotion, "We should both get some rest."

The cavemen beside them grumbled their protests before they left, not liking that the only eye-candy in the dump had decided to retreat for the night.

The room, to their surprise, was not as bad as the junk hole downstairs. It had sparse accommodations, but the place seemed to be clean despite the clear fact that the last person who stayed in the room smoked like a chimney.

Tenten unraveled her camping scroll and pulled out a backpack and sleeping bag for the night. She disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared after a short shower in her pajamas, which Gaara noticed lacked a considerable amount of fabric.

She had her hair back up in their usual buns, slightly damp, and she promptly unrolled her sleeping bag and hopped in before fluffing her pillow generously.

"Take the bed," Gaara commanded, unstrapping the heavy gourd on his back and setting it against the door. He didn't bother waiting for her to reply as he headed into the bathroom to take a hot shower and drench himself in steam. The journey had been long and arduous, but he could hardly complain about the company. Tenten was charming and comfortable. He didn't feel the need to fill their journey with anything more than he had to offer by way of conversation, which he was grateful for, that, and, he found her amusing. He also felt amicably safe with her, something he thought he would only be able to feel with his siblings. He had just grabbed a towel from the hook beside the stall when he heard a loud knock on the hotel door.

The drunken brutes had found out where they were staying.

Tenten, smartly, did not answer the door or even acknowledge that she was there. As the knocks turned into bodies being slammed into it trying to break it down, Gaara only had time to wrap the towel around his waist before moving his gourd out of the way of the two bodies hurling their way through it.

Tenten had already taken one out with an iron skillet by the time his sand reached out to knock the other one unconscious.

Tenten flipped the blunt instrument of the beastly churl's demise expertly, and gently huffed on it with her breath before she buffed it on her shoulder.

He noted that her camping gear had been close to her bed roll, and she had grabbed the nearest metal instrument from the bag in haste to incapacitate the Neanderthal. One of them groaned as she stepped on it's head as she crossed their room to slip back into the bag.

"I thought I told you to take the bed." Gaara scowled as he noted that she had not bothered to move from her spot on the floor when he had been busy showering.

"I can't have the Kazekage of Suna, Sabuko no Gaara, sleeping in my old sleeping bag," she reasoned, "it smells like campfire and woods."

_And her_, he thought suddenly, wanting the use of the sleeping bag even more now.

"I insist as the Kazekage." Gaara spoke with authority even as his wet red hair dripped quietly onto the carpet. With his arms still folded menacingly across his bare chest he blinked as if to say that was the final say on the matter, and disappeared into the bathroom, only bothering to put some pajama bottoms on before coming back out.

"Let's move them," he said and they each took an end of a body and shuffled it well out of site of their room downstairs on an empty bench just inside the lobby. They did the same with the other, and Gaara noted that she had positioned their arms around each other, in a romantic embrace. She stepped back at her handy-work, then brushed her palms off and said, "well, they ain't getting any prettier, or better smelling," she looked at her hands as if to make a note to wash them thoroughly when they got back to their room, "let's head back before we get noticed." Strolling half naked in around the hotel was a sure fire way to get unwanted attention and he had half a mind to tell the konoichi to henge as they headed back. Those shorts she was wearing were hardly covering her ass and the white tanktop was nearly completely see-through. Gaara tried not to let his mind wander as he watched the long legs in front of him lead the way back to their room.

After nearly scrubbing their hands raw, they fixed the door back in place with the help from a tool box Tenten had managed to hide away in a scroll.

"Do you think those creeps will be back?" Tenten asked wearily, eyeing the half broken door. It offered little comfort that it would do anything more than cave in if some were to sneeze on it.

"Probably," Gaara announced sitting on the side of the bed, and hunching over with his hands on his knees. "We should try to get some sleep anyways."

Honestly, he _was_ hoping to actually get some decent sleep tonight.

He should have known better.

Not that he could get any sleep knowing that the little half-naked konoichi would be sleeping in the same room as him.

He perked up slightly as he realized that he would at least be able to sleep in her sleeping bag. That sole fact alone was worth having to heave those local drunken louts around the hotel.

He pulled himself off the bed and headed for the small bed roll. He picked it up and placed it up against the splintered door. At least this way, he would know first if someone tried to attack them again.

…

Gaara was vaguely aware, before the morning rays of light illuminated their hotel room, that he was somehow not in the same spot he had been sleeping in against the door last night. As he was too groggy and comfortable to care why he wasn't, it also somewhat occurred to him that he was wrapped around a certain slender figure. He became fully awake when he realized that the figure was Tenten and his arm was passively clutching her to his side. Gaara wasn't one to panic. He remained cool and calm and stoic and well, _Gaara_, in the face of mortal peril and life threatening circumstances. So when the tattooed red-head opened his eyes to see that she was quite happily enjoying the cuddle, his heart began to race with alarm.

What the hell happened last night? He wracked his brain searching for answers. Rolling his eyes in the back of his head, he fuzzily remembered beating some more drunken thugs down, before hastily making his way back to bed. Except, he had forgot that he was sleeping on the floor, and settled in beside the warm, soft body already occupying the bed instead. He must have unconsciously followed the alluring scent from her sleeping bag back to its original source.

Gaara took a deep breath. Despite having his sleep disrupted by the lively gang of trogs, he seemed surprisingly refreshed. He wondered to himself if the girl nuzzling into his shoulder in her sleep had anything to do with it.

He should really try to slowly pull out his arm out from under her head and replace it with a pillow. Or say her name to wake her up. He should really do something other than just lay there and stare at her.

But instead he took in her soft features and let his eyes roam over every curve of her body. He wondered to himself how he had decided, even in his half-dozed sleep, that he could fall asleep beside her and not remember. Or not try to do anything other than sleep.

She was stirring now; her body was squirming ever so slightly as her body roused itself from sleep.

"Good morning," she whispered to him without opening her eyes. Gaara expected for her to react, and to react badly. He closed his eyes and waited, but all that she did was gently push herself into a sitting position while he appeared to be still dozing and hop lazily off the bed. She took off to the bathroom for a quick shower and change. She packed up her bags and supplies as Gaara took his turn in the facilities.

Gaara wasn't one to offer apologies. He had killed people. A lot of people. Somehow saying something along the lines of "hey, sorry I killed your family and loved ones" didn't quite make it into a conversation and things were just better left unsaid. Now was no different. He wouldn't bother explaining things to her unless she asked, and she seemed, for the moment, that it had not upset her in the slightest. Apologizing would make things more awkward, and that was one thing that he noticed had not happened between them yet. And he was determined to keep it that way.


	2. Chapter 2

"She stays with me."

Gaara's words came out harsh and clear. It was an end all, be all sentence. The cuadrilla of shinobi that surrounded them when they reached the compound reminded him ever so much of the ogres back at the inn. Instead of overly large foreheads and extra toes, these males that flanked them were more of a greasy-haired stalker variety. They focused their yellow eyes on Tenten, and she timorously huddled by Gaara's side, in a vein attempt to ensconce herself from their vision. Their pervading leers only caused the Kazekage to flex his sinewy chakra reserves, letting loose a full-power dose of what it meant to be like to be in the presence of someone who was christened Kazekage. The konoichi at his side remained somewhat nonplussed at the sudden power serge, no doubt hitting her full force in waves that most would stumble to the ground from; Gaara was no one to take lightly.

The magnitude of his qi plied to the furthest wall of the high-fenced manor, raging on, until every guard and household member knew, with out a shadow of a doubt, Sabuko no Gaara had returned.

The sudden hesitating glances from the onlookers had epatered them out of their salacious thoughts about his Tenten.

His Tenten.

Over the course of this journey, she ceased to be just another shinobi and had somehow meandered into the realm of his possessions. But she wasn't a thing to be bartered or traded for: Gaara wasn't interested in how many goats she was worth. He didn't linger on such archaic rituals; he wasn't a misogynist after all. Somehow, at some point, the thought of sharing her, even if it was only someone _looking_ at her, brought out his more dominating instinctual side and he wanted to cloister her away for only himself.

Tenten looked up gratefully beside him, and he had to fight himself from giving too much emotion away; what was it about her that always made him want to smile?

Gaara didn't smile. Gaara was a master at the art of stoicism and imitating brooding still life portraits. Temari once joked that blinking was how he emoted, and it wasn't a far cry from reality.

And now, as they passed through the corridors of the high-lofted mansion, he couldn't help but want to keep his fey konoichi inviolable to their pernicious eyes.

Gaara had almost forgotten how much of the feudal lord's residence lay underground. The massive constructor outside was not nearly impressive as the catacomb of chambers that lied beneath. The hall ways were narrow passages burrowing downward into the earth, narrow and sturdy, effortlessly holding fast against the weight of crafted sod and stone and wood in the upper holdings above them. The four lanky fellows that escorted them through the labyrinth below stole glances at Tenten who tried not to cringe with every askance look. Chakra still impressively exuded from his presence prolifically; their gangly charge feeling its full effect and hastening their pace.

The doe-eyed konoichi slugged almost clumsily through the halls beside him. Her sable eyes glossed over as she vacillated her steps beside him. He took a deep breath and reigned in his _prana_, knowing the magnitude of the energy was capitulating her sap in motion.

They halted in front of the double doors meticulously covered with indigenous carvings: a beautiful statement to their artisan's talents.

Gaara nodded curtly to the four escorts who insidiously bowed lowly before him. Tenten faltered in her step towards the door once they took leave, crashing into Gaara with eyes half lidded. Supporting her weight against him, he guided her inside the poorly lit suite and closed the heavy wooden doors.

She leaned unapologetically against him as he shifted her weight onto the overstuffed mattress. Her head lolled lazily in her seated position, and Gaara pressed his palms to her shoulders in order to assess her condition as he bent down on one knee.

"Tenten?" he spoke in a firm yet soft tone, but his concern for her was more than evident. Her proximity to his full strength chakra-unleashing might warrant more rest than they could afford. He should have at least warned her that he might have to reduce himself to such aphonic retaliations instead of reviling them openly like his sister may have so loquaciously succumbed to. Had he still been the demonic vessel every one knew to fear so notoriously, he would have just eviscerated them on the spot, without so much as a second glance.

Stupid politics.

Her head continued to oscillate in what seemed to be a half-in, half-out consciousness; that is until he spoke her name more harshly, with more warning and concern.

"Tenten!" he nearly shook her shoulders and he could feel his patience on the matter running thin. He wanted her to look him in the eyes so he could see the efficacy his billowing qi had on the twin-bunned konoichi.

She snagged his attention with a lopsided smirky visage, full of drowsy euphoria.

He caught his breathe.

Now he had heard rumors, over heard a conversation between Temari and Kankuro, and eves dropped on general well hushed dialogues about such happenings. His chakra was intended to frighten all except her, and generally, it eked those sentiments to those the qi reached, driving ever so effectively the figments of his thoughts out into cold harsh emotions. Sending out his overprotective vibes the way he did in mass quantities was bound to culminate into a beast altogether unseen. He had never done that before.

She looked _high_.

He supposed he really should have tested this before hand. He hadn't realized that his chakra at full strength was something he should have inured her. Not having really come to grips with how deep his feelings ran for her, he could have only guess the outcome: he damn near raged himself a storm of defensive fury in an attempt to shield his Tenten from any possible threat.

She laboriously breathed in gulps of air in an attempt to shake the drugged stupor, excoriating her arms with her nails to ground herself with mental and physical purchase. "Gaara," she heaved out in a strangled whisper. He was torn between the dichotomy of his own happiness and concern over her wellbeing.

Gaara would attempt to feign contriteness, but he had yet to find a good reason to do so. He wasn't sorry about his non-verbal threat to the feudal lord, nor was he going to communicate an empathized apology. It just didn't seem appropriate. Instead he fought the feelings of his own sentient neediness and focused on how to help her. But his thoughts kept returning to the overheard conversation between his siblings.

It was evening, a week after the chunin exams. Gaara had been wandering the tower, too confused with his own thoughts to care where his feet led him and determined not to sleep for fear of Shikaku taking over, eating away at the fragmented shards of what was left of his newfound personality. He stopped when he heard the gossipy voices, very unlike his siblings. He waited by the door, concealing his chakra and listening with intense curiosity.

Temari had spoke of the lazy nin that she fought during the exams, the only one to procure chunin status. He had approached her the day after, strolling up along side her in a casual manner, checking the halls to see if they were alone. She was going to break into their normal sarcastic and witty volley when he lunged towards her, backing her into the wall. She was caught off guard, he never touched her, but he pressed every ounce of his chakra against her like a hot brand, and whispered one phrase in her ear before retreating back to his normal bored pace, shoving his hands back into his pockets, leaving her dizzy, breathless and confused in the hallway.

"Have a safe trip," she claimed he said. For a lazy ninja who didn't have the proclivity to instigate any kind of relationship that might be troublesome, that spoke volumes.

"It felt…warm, the good kind," she had explained to her brother, "but tingly and fuzzy, too."

Gaara looked at Tenten and realized he had inadvertently done the same thing. Whatever _that_ was, but with far more intensity. The results were astounding.

She was panting now, gripping her fists in the downy fabric of the bed, holding on to reality, a palatable gasp of pleasure escaped every now and then.

Gaara fought a fatous grin, fastidiously holding true to his calm demeanor, however ecstatic his viscera contradicted his outside façade.

"That was intense," she finally vocalized, after her breathing had regulated.

Smug, Gaara fought the urge to explain that he had that effect on people. He folded his arms across his chest and blinked.

He could have simply stated something simple, like it had to be done, but continued to blink and turn his head away instead. He had half a mind to ask her what it felt like.

Yes, the konoichi was bringing out a plethora of feelings the Kazekage didn't know existed. Except for the conversation with his siblings, Gaara had never known to be curious.

A/N: You will have to forgive me, someone brought it to my attention that my vocabulary was more expansive than was exhibited previously. Feel free to hate on this chapter, (and my best friend) for manifesting such superfluous information.

Prana is Sanskrit for energy or qi or life-force or chi, however you want to look at it.

~jaggedjacket


	3. Chapter 3

"_Paybacks tonight, Kazekage_," the words kept echoing in his head as the feudal lord foisted for leverage in the contract that lay before him. She had whispered them causally, so hauntingly. He suppressed a shiver and as he thought of how her lips had ever so gently graced his ear.

It had sounded like a threat, and he wasn't talking about the outrageous negotiations that lay almost insultingly before him.

Not that he was complaining about her words. He was just having a hard time concentrating on the contracts in front of him when she sat directly behind him. Waiting. Plotting.

He just wasn't sure what she had in mind. Little sneaky konoichi had slipped those last few words into his ear while no one was looking right before this travesty of a council meeting had taken place. He couldn't have even retaliated if he wanted too. Until they were alone, that is.

He sat in contemplation, taking in the open hall in all its expansiveness, a dome with high arches and painted tiles with a milieu of textiles and hand painted scenes.

He hadn't actually wanted to kill this particular diamyo. Really. As far as people that didn't strike his fancy to murderize, he was at the top of the list.

That said something. He chalked some of it up to Tenten's intimidation. After all, there was nothing like a well placed threat to put a small bounce in the Kazekage's step.

The innocuous negotiations lasted rest of the afternoon and the better part of the evening. Exhausted and only slightly irritated, the Kazekage finally retreated to his room with the precision instrument in tow. Tenten trekked behind him, checking the well transformed ferrite blade with a glint of pleasure in her eyes.

Upon entering the massive double doors to their room, Gaara realized that at some point, they would have to address their sleeping situation.

He rolled a shoulder, fighting the urge to rub at his temples franticly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he closed his eyes and tried to wash his brain of all the things that made him want to roll his eyes tonight. A shower, he decided; he desperately needed some time to let some hot steam penetrate his aching body. He let the water run over his sinews, aiming the spray over his back as he faced it hunched over in thought as he braced himself against the shower stall with both arms. He needed time to think about the konoichi lying on the other side of the door that was taking up more and more of his thoughts.

Just what, oh what, did she have in mind by "paybacks."

He wasn't sure if he should be excited or if he should be scared. Even the exciting part sounded scary. Gaara hadn't been intimate before with anyone. Being the demon vessel definitely took that possibly from him early on. Then he had been elected Kazekage and he hadn't had the time to even contemplate such a luxury. Perhaps this was why he wasn't to sit in on those little private conversations his siblings had. They didn't want to get his hopes up because there just wasn't an opportunity.

Until now.

The relic was safely sitting next the bedside table. The room still remained drenched in darkness and there was a Tenten sized lump taking up the middle of the king-size bed.

Gaara continued to stare at the burrowed creature as he raked the towel through his damp hair.

She seemed peaceful, lost in slumber when Gaara got brave enough to come closer to the cocoon, after running out of things to do. He was dressed and ready for bed, scalp nearly bleeding from the repetitive motion of towel drying his hair without paying much attention other than the steady breathing the swaddled form rhythmically produced.

Sabuko no Gaara, the Kazekage of Suna stood stock still, unable to slide into bed because underneath the covers lay the most dangerous, frightening creature he could think of.

A girl.

There was a _girl_ in _his_ bed.

And she had promised, no _threatened_ that to get him back.

Perhaps this _was_ the payback. Her leaving him completely confused as to what he should do about where he should sleep with no bedroll in sight. He had told everyone very explicitly with mounds of surging chakra that she stayed with him. It wasn't like he could request another room at this point. Those skuzzy guards might take that as a hint that she was available.

And she was certainly _not_ available.

When had he made that decision? Probably the moment that he rolled back the silky linens from the bed unceremoniously and snuck in beside her. No use in trying to be discrete, and he would be damned if she made him try to camp out on a far corner of the bed, needlessly worrying about if he was going to disturb her slumber in some outlandish form of misplaced chivalry.

He wasn't what he would call touching her, though she was probably very much aware of his presence beside her. The underground chambers had a habit of being damp and cool even in the heat of the summer. His body radiated from the heat of the shower. She shivered beside him.

The red head instinctually reached out and pulled the konoichi to his side, and wrestled with the possibility that she might have truly been asleep and had woken up.

Alarm hit him like a shock of lightning to the chest, freezing him in place when he realized with great panic that the woman lying beside him that he had his arms so causally wrapped around was completely naked.

Pure, soft, unadulterated flesh was all that Gaara was touching as his fingertips lingered over the surface of her stomach, ribs and back.

Perhaps her shirt was just bunched up? Only one way to tell; he let his calloused fingers roam over the length of her torso and past the curve of her hip. His hand glided in one fluid motion, never once stumbling upon material or fabric. His fears confirmed, he hesitated only momentarily before he began to just enjoy the sensual feel of her velvet skin underneath the marred pads of his hands. He imagined his actions might seem odd, or a misplaced thing to do, but his fascination with just how lovely the touch of the surface of her body presented, was too appealing to stop himself. He drew lazily with palms, fingers, and forearms, captivated by how deprived of simple human touch he was all his life; this was heaven- having no reservations, no apologies for doing something so mundane as basic physical contact.

She rolled over, and pressed against him, sending delicate fingers to his chest and arms to trace his carved muscles in the dark. The contact was thrilling, and he was drinking it up like parched soil absorbs the first drops of rain. His senses were trying not to over load as he touched and received; the endorphins kicking in and shutting down his higher functioning faculties. But their embracing was too much, the addiction too strong. His flesh burned with ecstasy, taking in gushes of warm impulses without reservation. His breathing hitched, but he was no longer in control and sanity faded. The fuzzy feelings clouded his brain, wracked his body and boiled the blood pulsing in his veins.

Gaara was over-dosing.


	4. Chapter 4

She was scrambling off the bed, cursing and apologizing, no doubt throwing on clothes a short moment after he had decided to sweep his lips over hers. His frozen brain had lurched a moment before catching up to speed and realized that one of her many traps had been set off and she had all but launched herself off the bed to defend him. Now in her usual wife-beater and black shorts that she somehow excused as pajamas, she was doing a perimeter sweep around the room with a katana that she had brandished out of what seemed like nowhere. Gaara rose from the bed, and began to light candles after uncorking his gourd and placing it firmly on his back. The sword on the nightstand he placed between his sternum and baldric, mindful not to rip chest hairs as he did.

Still catching up from the rush moments ago, he took in a few deep breaths and concentrated on the outlay of the profligate textiles of the room and the tableau of articulate decorations that could have booby traps and secrete corridors behind them.

One thing was certain; whoever had interrupted his one on one time with the Weapon's Mistress was going to pay, very, very dearly.

Murderous intent was filling the room, bouncing off the walls in a furious blur of rage. The konoichi stepped catlike with her gleaming steel, assessing the boarders of the room with quiet skill and determination, heading towards the area of the room where the trap had been triggered.

"Someone is in the room," she cautioned Gaara as she fingered the thin wire where it had snagged on a leg as they had entered. Sometimes the simplest of traps were overlooked as mere genin and neophyte tricks, but they were usually the ones that the more advanced skills levels never checked for, disarming the more advanced jutsus instead. Her advanced snares were not feckless or to be taken lightly; the interloper must be quite the proficient in dispelling such deceptions and Tenten was on full alert. The whole room seemed to be one big ambuscade under the ruse of diplomatic sleeping chambers. Gaara should have known this was going to be one big portentous entanglement and inwardly voiced his dissent amongst his profanity for agreeing to this travesty of a mission.

The konoichi slipping around the chamber's edge held a resolute constitution and the reflection from the silver blade was the only thing that gave her position away. She snuck into the shadows and a soft padding of feet and a few solid hits as fists met flesh were the only sighs of a scuffle in the ensconcement of the shadows. The altercation only lasted a few quick seconds and Gaara had only a moment of a heart flutter to realize that the assailant had been kicked into view unceremoniously, skidding to a halt three feet in front of him. He clutched his side, no doubt his trembling fingers trying to swath the wound trickling blood onto the hardwood flooring.

"I only came to watch," he confessed with a cough of blood spurting onto the floor.

Stepping out from the confines of the shadows, Tenten audibly mustered an "ew" with great revulsion.

Somehow, that made everything worse. The whole damn place was probably chalk full of the lecherous denizens, just waiting to get a peak at the slender figure now garrulously reviling him and kicking him with every insult. He let the cathartic beating continue until the voyeur had enough decency to get up and retreat. Her ire somewhat diminished, she busied herself by reinforcing the traps, making them more impetuous than she had previously with consummate skill.

His irascible disposition was not quenched even as he stared at the blood now pooled on the floor before him, a silent testament that the supposed fealty that the feudal lord pledged might have been an elaborate ruse as well. Perhaps he had been ingratiating himself to Gaara even before the trip, his actions now seemed obsequious in nature, but Gaara still felt an actual bond between them despite this horrid misunderstanding. Filled with a lassitude brought on by the night's events and a now splitting headache, Gaara pulled the sword from his baldric and placed it on the bed.

Disarming himself of his gourd, he sat on the edge of the bed to think. Tenten had approached him, stirring him out of a torpid haze, standing and reporting in deference to the Kazekage like any ninja with a modicum of respect would. She affably continued her report, concluding that she stand post all night in case the Kazekage came under attack again.

He curtly reminded her that she was the one being targeted and she would have to sleep in the bed regardless of what she though was pertinent for the situation. He temporized that he would sleep next to her for _her_ safety, and the Kazekage would have no other word on the matter. She laconically agreed with a nod and busied herself with more traps around their bed, infusing them with their chakra signatures so that no one that wasn't them could possibly break the barrier of the four poster bed.

Settling in beside her, he laid on his back with arms above his head, rubbing the nape of his neck to try and alleviate the pain searing his forehead. The konoichi beside him was not relaxing, and lay ridged beside him, clutching her katana- the prized mission sword between them. She wasn't willing to take any chances again, being caught off guard the first time, now it seemed a matter of pride to say alert awaiting the next barrage.

He let himself be lulled into slumber, hoping to the gods that the night would not be filled with more disturbances out side his bed. Inside his bed, he decided, would be a different matter, but judging by the distance and weaponry between them, it was unlikely of anymore spate contact.

They were to head out in the morning, their vespertine activities all but forgotten in the daylight. He would rest, and make the most of the fugacious moments with her the next day. He might never have another mission or alone time with her again, but for now, he needed rest.


	5. Chapter 5

It was in the many hours later, far before dawn that he found himself awake, taking the groggy girl in next to him with arms that seemed to possess more and more of a will of their own. She muttered a rabble of incoherent words as she curled up close to him and nuzzled into his neck.

Gaara was quite certain he was a masochist for allowing him such ridiculous notions of pleasure. Even if he did want something like this on a regular basis, (which was starting to become more and more appealing), there was always the issue that he was the Kazekage and she was a shinobi of a different village. It would be unfair of him to ask that she leave Konoha on the off-chance that things actually did work between them.

It was absurd to think that he would be able to find happiness with someone, anyone really. But her, no, Gaara was well aware that the body that lie next to him was well out of his league. Kazekage or not.

This did not stop him from taking nervous rough hands to slowly brush back the recalcitrant strands that fell in the crevices of her eyes. Those full black eyelashes gently graced her cheek without fluttering, and Gaara knew by her consistent breathing that she felt safe enough with him to fall into a deep slumber while at his side. Gaara kissed the top of her head, but not before he thoroughly enjoyed taking in a deep breath full of the gloriously alluring scent of her hair. He couldn't help but wonder what she would say if he offered her a permanent visa to Suna and some freelance assassination missions. Just temporarily of course. Surely Tsunade wouldn't mind. He would gladly pay any price she negotiated to keep her around even a few more hours. He would draw up the conscripts in the morning, but for now, the tempting skin of the konoichi in front of him was too soft pass up gliding open-palm against. He drew demanding circles against her back, as if trying to bring her closer, afraid she would slip through his grasp like an apparition. She was real. She was with him now. And he never wanted to let her go.

When morning finally came, he had fallen asleep long ago, with the hope that he might be able to extend his time with her, if only for a little while.

He quickly pulled out his Kazekage's scrolls, safely entrapping the sword and summoning a messenger bird, some ink and a scroll. Writing the outline of the mission in his usually neat Gaara-handwriting, he instructed the bird to fly to Tsunade to deliver his message.

He needed another shower: a cold shower to wake him and set his hormones into place. When he had stayed long enough to regain his senses, he ventured out of the room and quickly got dressed, no Tenten in sight. This only slightly worried him, but considering his actions over the last few days, he wouldn't be at all surprised if she didn't want to have anything to do with him. This mildly put him off.

Then there was the voyeur to deal with. As Gaara slid on the large gourd and tucked away his Kazekage scroll, he adjusted the baldric and started out the door determined to find the feudal lord and have a one on one meeting with him.

As Gaara opened the large wooden doors, he was met with the man himself, looking very serious, and he bowed low not only to show his loyalty, but the gravity of the situation before them. One of his guards had died of blood loss last night and the situation needed to be cleared up immediately.

Gaara followed him down the hall and into what seemed like a private room that most probably didn't know existed.

He promptly closed the door behind them after checking the halls to make sure they had not been followed.

"I must first apologies to you, Kazekage-sama," he bowed low once again, "for the intruder last night."

Okay, Gaara wasn't expecting that. He was expecting to be berated for killing off one of his guards. Gaara eyed him in the dim light of the musty room. The room barely had any amenities but Gaara didn't feel like he was being held hostage or being tricked.

"It is my suggestion, Kazekage-sama, that you send for reinforcements and leave with them. There are more eyes here watching than you know, though, I can personally guarantee that your room will not be infiltrated again. That sword is quite the target."

The man was warm and kind like Naruto, he decided. His eyes were sincere and Gaara knew it was his turn to speak.

"I knew my mother like you for a reason," Gaara's voice hinted a smile, and almost reflected it in his visage with his sparkling eyes. The two clasped forearms with great enthusiasm, like comrades, as if the previous few days here hadn't even happened. It was great to see his friend again.

"Your mother was a kind woman," he appraised wholeheartedly, "she would want to see you with the Sword of Prosperity," he chuckled, letting the laugh lines show around his eyes. "She would have loved to meet your Tenten as well, she reminds me much of her."

His gaze seemed to recall her smile or other trait of his mothers that had triggered that kind of response. Gaara reticently nodded, unable to recall any such memory from his past. But he had Tenten, well, sort of, and right now that seemed to enough.

"Where is she?" Gaara asked out of curiosity, bringing his friend out of his reverie.

"I was hoping to see her. She hardly slept after our little visitor. She should be resting now, as we speak."

His friend turned his head to the side with a quizzical look. "I'm sorry, I cannot say that I have seen her all morning."

Gaara nodded that he understood, then took his leave, heading up to the main house to try to find her there. A part of his mind told him not to panic, while the other part of his brain was already hyperventilating and killing anything that looked even mildly threatening.

He realized that she might have gone back to their room after searching the grounds quite thoroughly for her chakra signature and finding absolutely no sign of her. He hastily strode down the hall with all his might, praying that he was wrong and that the evil denizens of the property hadn't killed her or had taken her hostage. Kami help them if they did.

The room was empty, but he could hear the faint sound of the shower thrum off the bathroom, and Gaara sighed with audible relief.

He took out his Kazekage scroll and neatly wrote another letter to the council, and one to his siblings for much needed support. Informing the summoned messenger bird to make haste, he turned his attention to the konoichi now coming out of the bathroom in only a towel.

He was going to need another cold shower.

Of course she had to act all nonchalant as Gaara just stood there, blinking at her. She adjusted the fluffy white towel as she crossed the room on her way to her backpack, extracting her clean clothes from a scroll and casually heading back to the bathroom to put them on. She must have picked the smallest towel they had to cover up with, although he was enjoying the look of her tan skin as water droplets trickled down in tiny rivulets. She walked with deliberately slow steps back to the bathroom, swinging those slender hips of hers with grace and ease.

He nearly swore underneath his breath.

As the door clicked after she slipped inside, Gaara had to shake his head to clear them of their aberrant thoughts.

She was going to be the death of him, he just knew it.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm not trying to question your authority or anything, _Kazekage_," the dripping wet kunoichi explained as they ambled along in the dark, "but I was just wondering why we are running in the middle of the night, during a thunderstorm when we could be back at the compound. You know, _dry_." Tenten explained as Gaara silently issued that they take shelter momentarily from the spate under a large pine. Gaara readjusted his gear, and regarded the kunoichi in question. Her usually pink lips were now purple, and the wind accompanying the rain had caused her hair to come unraveled part-way. The now loose buns were sopping wet like the rest of her, with errant stands running down her long neck like tributaries for the rivulets of rain. Wet, cold, tired and frustrated, Gaara could tell she did not quite understand the reasons for behind his actions. Getting lost in the middle of nowhere during a downpour did not sound like a brilliant idea.

He rather thought that she looked good soaking wet, with the exception that she was actually starting to present with signs of hypothermia.

"Just a bit farther, then we can meet up with my siblings." There, he had finally said something to her, it had been a while and he could tell she was grateful for the conversation and information that it provided.

There was a look of relief that swept over her face after he spoke. No doubt a friendly face would be in order after a long journey. They had just a few more hours before any kind of reasonable shelter could be reached.

"If this is some sort of sick, twisted joke, _Kazekage_," Tenten coward closer to the man as she hissed out his name with a hushed agitation as they made their way down the hallway, "I am _not_ laughing."

The inn resembled the denizens of the last one to a perfect T, and Gaara's mouth began to curl up in distain as he remembered the fetid smell, instantaneously making his stomach lurch as they made their way in the front entrance. A massive paw tried to reach out and touch one of the Weapon's Mistress's drenched buns, and Tenten would have cut herself a trophy had Gaara not swept her down the hall quickly, placing a possessive arm around her shoulder as he did. This group of trolls was definitely a lot braver than the last one.

She reluctantly pocketed her tanto, but he noticed she kept it accessible, just incase another wandering limb happened to stray her way. Gaara dropped his arm around her at the front desk, rang the bell, and when another beastly creature appeared from behind them he quickly slung it back over her shoulders as he ordered their room. He nearly regretted order one with two beds, but as his siblings were coming, it was absolutely necessary, even though he would rather stand in a pile of fire ants then sleep next to Kankuro for the evening, especially when sleeping next to Tenten proved to be much more appealing. Much to his surprise, Tenten shrugged closer to him as they walked to their respective room, trying to make her shivering as discreet as possible and he could tell she was biting her inner cheek to keep her jaw from chattering. When they reached the room, Gaara quietly shut and locked the door, placing his gourd by the bed before stripping himself of his damp clothes. Tenten set herself to the same task, peeling off layer after layer of clothing in an effort to free herself of the insufferable cold that accompanied the drippy confinements.

Somewhere along the lines, half naked and spying each other in the process, their eyes locked and they were drawn to each other. Gaara found her purple lips and tasted them, cold and damp with rain water. His hands tenderly touched her clammy skin, any part of flesh exposed was explored by his almost hesitant hands. But she was kissing him back, thoroughly set to the same task with him, determined to affectionately discover and touch all aspects of his skin as well. Slow, drudging kisses set his chest on fire, and before Gaara knew it he was gasping for air and a hunger grew within him to touch her more. Gently touching became firm gripping, and his tongue was determined to taste not only her lips, but every inch of her neck as well.

"Tenten, I.." Gaara began, but then was quickly interrupted.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Gaara had never wished he was an only child so much in his life, and he entertained the thought and ramifications of suddenly becoming one as Tenten was kissing his jaw line and moving towards his ear. There was no doubt that his siblings had arrived; they were bitchy and loud on the other side of the door as they complained indiscriminately about the inn and its occupants.

Tenten broke free of the Kazekage and headed into the bathroom for a much needed shower. Trying to regain his composure, he took a few deep breaths before he opened the door.

Temari and Kankuro entered, soaked and chilled to the bone. With a quick greeting, Temari quickly hugged her brother and headed into the bathroom.

"You do know Tenten is in there right now?" Kankuro stammered as his sister opened the door.

"Yes, and I happen to be freezing to death and want some hot water," she shut the door behind her with a click, and a few seconds later they could hear muffled chatter while the girls shared the shower.

"If she wasn't our sister, and I wasn't so damn grumpy from the trip, I might be inclined to join them." Kankuro spoke as he tore his shirt from his skin, peeling off the wet matted clothing as Gaara stared impassively at the bathroom door. Thoughts of just taking Temari's spot crossed his mind, and instead he set about gathering all the wet clothes to wring them out, before washing them all in the spare sink outside the bathroom.

Soon the boys took over the bathroom, (taking separate showers,) so that the two females could get dressed and ready for bed.

Tenten and Temari were curled up in a ball, trying with out much luck to get warm when the two came out.

"I said rub my arms, not feel me up!" Tenten snarled as she sat in Temari's lap.

"Short of petting you inappropriately, I don't see how the hell this is going to work!" the wind user complained, "you have the retained body heat of a dead reptile."

Tenten chattered her teeth in agreement, wrapping the blanket around them so tight that Temari let out a strangled gasp as it tightened around her throat, the force nearly slamming her face into the back of Tenten's head.

"This is pointless," Temari untangled herself from the swathing of the blanket. "We are going to freeze to death if we sleep in the same bed. I am sleeping with Kankuro. Gaara you can sleep with little Miss-Cold-as-Steel." Temari spat, hand on her hip.

Everyone fell silent, and Gaara exchanged looks with both of his siblings. "Kankuro, I need to speak with you outside." Gaara replaced the gourd on his back, and shot Temari a look that probably only she could pick up on. The look spoke that he needed to talk with her as well, but he couldn't just ask for an audience like he could with his brother, not without insulting Tenten. Kankuro slung karasu on his shoulders and followed his younger brother out the door.

"I need a drink," the red head announced, taking the lead down the hall to the adjunct bar now lively with surly inbreds and churls inebriated from the local brew that Gaara was sure to resemble in looks and taste like cowpiss.

It did not disappoint, and the two abandoned their beer after one horrendous sip. Kankuro was now thoroughly disgusted with his senses as the rancid fermentation hit his olfactory nerves, and his eyes caught the sight of just how many teeth the locals were in lack of possession of as Gaara ordered shots at the bar.

"Shots?" Kankuro asked, as the bartender poured two shots of whiskey, both of which the redhead downed one after another. Gaara motioned for the bartender to refill the shots which he did, and then demanded money for said shots, which Gaara quickly slapped down on the counter.

With a half-toothed smile, the bartender happily replenished the two shot glasses and left Gaara and Kankuro to attend the more rowdy denizens at the other end of the bar.

Gaara picked up another shot to down, but Kankuro caught his arm. "I haven't even seen you drink more than half a beer in your life. What the hell Gaara?"

Gaara let his eyes plead on his behalf. The once demon vessel might still be laconic, but his siblings could read exactly what was on his mind once they looked into the depths of his sea foam eyes. Gaara's were pleading for help at the moment, showing a vulnerability that none were privy to. None except a handful of people, Kankuro being on the top of the list of whom he trusted most with letting him see his emotional side.

"Ok, one, take it easy on the whiskey, and two, what the hell happened that has you so riled up?" he asked in a hushed tone, then took the shot from his hand and downed it straight away, giving Gaara time to formulate an answer.

"It has come to my attention," Gaara started and then shook his head as the whiskey settled in his stomach, making it warm and his head a bit cloudy. "That I have feelings for Tenten." Gaara made a motion to take the other shot, but as his motor skills were slightly inhibited by more alcohol than the man normally had in a month in the span of thirty seconds, Kankuro easily snatched it with a chakra string and threw it back before his brother could even scowl at its loss.

"You know she has liked you for a while now, right?" Kankuro thumbed over the glass in his hand, "tell me you knew she liked you."

Gaara shut his eyes and placed his tattoo on the edge of the bar, berating himself for not noticing the signs before. He wracked his brain to come up with one thing he could remember that would help him come to that conclusion.

"No," he answered honestly.

"That chick has liked you even before you became Kazekage, even before," Kankuro lowered his voice, "_before Shukaku_, how could you not notice that?"

Gaara raised his head from the corner of the edge of the bar and gave his brother a fierce scowl, one that stated that such things remained on the periphery of his vision in comparison with every other life threatening thing that occurred in his life. He just didn't have the time or capacity to notice or care.

Until now.

"Okay, so it wasn't obvious, not like fan-girl-obvious, but what about now, have you told her how you feel?" Kankuro probed as a line of half-drunken ogres started a brawl over the last few swigs of their pitcher of pale-ale. Kankuro ducked as a mug whizzed overhead, smashing into the bar behind him, and a few other troll-like locals stepped in and broke up the short-lived fight.

"I kissed her," Gaara answered and motioned for the bartender to pour some more shots as he pushed his money forward on the bar. "She kissed me back, but I don't see how a relationship will work."

Kankuro placed his hands over the rims of the shot glasses so that his brother could focus his attention on him and not on getting himself sloshed.

"Your sister and that idiot genius seem to be able to pull it off, Gaara," Kankuro intoned with a chastisement that Gaara had never heard come from his brother before, "so don't give me that crap. We are in Konoha at least once a month on diplomatic negotiations and meetings in Fire country, so don't tell me that it's because you wouldn't be able to see her. You can make it work."

Gaara shoved the puppeteer's hands away and stole a shot; the alcohol burned his throat as he drained it. "That's the problem, Kankuro: I am afraid that it _will_ work."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Song that I was listening to while writing this: Balloons by Julia Nunes-good tune, check her out.

(o)

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Gaara?" Kankuro asked as his brother glared intently at the last shot on the bar. As Gaara motioned to grab it, Kankuro shifted it away, keeping it just out of reach until he answered the question. There was a moment of silence as Gaara was tempted to take the shot by force, but since the sand user could barely stand with out leaning against the bar, Gaara decided against it and refocused his attention on answering his brother, which proved to be the best way to get him what he wanted: the shot.

"He never liked her, you know," the tipsy Kazekage confessed, "always had more murderous intent when she was around, _like he_ _knew_." Those last words were delivered with a grave sobriety, and Kankuro wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his next question.

"Knew what, Gaara?" Kankuro asked anyways, and started to slide the shot towards him, but held it back until his brother continued. Kankuro had a feeling who _he_ was, Gaara always made reference to the monster that resided with in him in such a fashion.

"After the chunin exams, I was glad to come back to Suna so that I could finally get some rest," the red head mumbled, "then when I died, and he was finally gone, I understood. I understood that he was _jealous_. He knew. _He fucking knew_, Kankuro!" Gaara stated with a troubled conviction, revealing another form of torture that the two-tailed beast inflicted upon him with out anyone's knowledge. "My fight with Lee, he could smell her on him, made him mad," he explained further, "Temari's win against her made him happy, and I thought that I was just happy for her because she won her match, but now I know, now I realize, after all this time…" he trailed off, and Kankuro was so wrapped up in his musings of what his brother disclosed that he pushed the shot to him, unwilling to keep the man from getting hammered if that was his goal, because in his mind, there wasn't anyone in more need to kill off a few brain cells or to forget what it was going through his brain.

Kankuro watched his brother throw back the shot, swearing under his breath, almost unable to process the information unveiled to him.

"He picked up that she liked you?" Kankuro stated almost to himself, the Kazekage corrected him.

"No," Gaara started then shook his head yes, "well yes, but it was more than that. Shukaku wasn't one to share me with anyone, didn't want me happy, she was the only one that I ever felt strongly enough with that he felt the need to be nasty over. Hitting puberty was a bitch, Shukaku wanted all of my attention, no matter what, and she was the only one that he saw as a threat because I was drawn to her, but I gave up after a while, he was too strong." Gaara plied on soberly, "I was weak. I gave in to his jealous tirades. I didn't fully understand that I was waving the white flag at the time, I just wanted his murderous surges to stop, but I understand it now. I just wasn't strong enough to fight him for her. How can I look Tenten in the eye and tell her that?" Gaara turned his sad eyes on his brother, pleading with him to understand, ashamed of his actions, and unable to stop the guilty pangs that drove into his heart.

The puppeteer had to admit that he had noticed Gaara's initial attention towards Tenten. If he thought that trying to pick up that she liked him was hard, it was nothing compared to Gaara noticing a girl. Kankuro _had_ figured it however, but then soon waved it off as Gaara's internal struggle with Shukaku won out in the end. Kankuro had merely concluded that he was no longer interested in the twin-bunned kunoichi after a while. Gaara had regarded her with extreme caution, holding back his distance at first, but ever wanting to be in her presence at the same time. It was odd seeing Gaara confused about a girl, but it gave Kankuro hope for his future happiness nonetheless. After his fight with Naruto, Gaara fought Shukaku's murderous intent harder than he ever thought possible, but every time Tenten attempted to come close to Gaara on a physical or emotional level, he pulled away, and Kankuro could never figure out why. If Gaara was disinterested, then Kankuro figured he would have just ignored her in his presence, effectively shutting her down without the hassle of avoiding her altogether. This new information that Gaara supplied explained his behavior and motivation, and Kankuro wished he would have divulged the information sooner, just so that his brother wouldn't have felt so alone. Now that all the pieces to the puzzle were present, his behavior made sense. Kankuro mulled this all over for a bit, trying to gain a foot hold on what his brother's next move should be.

After the two decided to partake in another shot to process the information further, Kankuro leaned against the bar, watching his flushed brother press the cold glass of the last shot up against a pink cheek.

"So what are you going to do?" Kankuro asked, placing his glass next to the others on the bar. "Shukaku is gone now, the only resistance you might get is from the council, they might not be happy that you chose a girl from Leaf. May be they will, who knows."

Gaara scoffed, and looked at his brother, "It doesn't matter," he slid the shot glass next to the rabble of others at the bar. "After this mission, I doubt that we will see much of each other." Gaara was beginning to slur his speech. The two propped themselves against the edge of the bar as they watched another fight break out. Tables breaking, stale beer getting slung about by brute and bully, they looked on with an awed silence before giving up trying to get anymore liquor from the bar and headed to their room, arms around each other for added support.

Gaara stumbled into the room, unaware that Kankuro had pulled Temari aside to explained things as the Kazekage nestled himself next to the Weapon's Mistress of Konoha after divesting himself of everything but his pants.

"What did you do to him?" Temari hissed as she watched her brother cuddle in next to Tenten on the bed. "Is he drunk? Kankuro! What the hell were you thinking!"

"Just listen, Temari." Kankuro insisted as he divulged the information that he was given earlier, feeling confident that he hadn't betrayed Gaara's trust.

"So what is he going to do?" Temari looked at the sleeping couple, wrapped in each others arms. Gaara had a smile on his content face, one that two siblings had never seen before.

"Nothing," Kankuro answered, "he is too scared, after all that has happened to him, do you blame him?"

Temari's heart broke for her little brother, "he looks happy, Kankuro," she pointed out. "We can't just let him pass this up." She stated with a firm tone, "he will regret this forever, and Gaara deserves to be happy," she bit her lip, "so does Tenten."

(o)

Gaara muttered incoherently as the blinds were being drawn, spilling early morning rays onto the read head's groggy face. Rolling over to find his bed empty, he cursed a bit into his pillow then ordered that the sun be put out because it was giving him a headache.

"No, your headache came from a bottle of Jack Daniels, Gaara," Kankuro corrected him. "We need to leave for Suna before our little friends find us. The girls are in the lobby, and we want to leave before we have to pay to have stains removed from the carpeting. The locals are still a bit handsy, and Tenten was getting twitchy with a tanto. So I suggest that…" Kankuro didn't need to finish his sentence as the Kazekage was already headed to the bathroom for a quick shower and change before heading out.

Readjusting his baldric, Gaara was all business in the lobby, and no one would figure that he was sporting a headache from the night's acts of whiskey indulgence, and thankfully, they left without any resident's loss of blood or limbs before as they checked out of the inn.

Tenten must have felt the tension amongst the siblings, and wandered off to the nearest stream to fill everyone's canteens on the first break that they took just to get away from all the awkwardness that was Gaara's family.

Kankuro and Temari nearly bombarded him with anticipation on their anxious visages. Gaara felt his head pounding with retaliation from their persistence in wanting information from him. They pressed closer and were eager to the point of obnoxiousness, and the thought occurred to him that he had never seen a beaver before, but if he were to ever come across one and it displayed this type of behavior, he would be tempted to punch the woodland creature in the face.

"What?" Gaara was tempted to take a step back from their invasion of his personal space. He settled for pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath for patience instead.

Kankuro and Temari looked at each other with nervousness and apprehension, Kankuro started first, nearly spilling out the words that he had been wanting to say since they left the hotel.

"You should go for it," he rushed out, "with Tenten."

"This is really…" Gaara started, but Temari jumped in from behind her brother and interrupted him.

"Don't be stupid!" Temari cried out, "The council will marry you off the first chance they get as soon as they find out that you have any interest in the opposite sex! Then we will end up with some dog-faced feudal lord's cow of a daughter for a sister-in-law! And I for one prefer Tenten, Gaara, and I know that you do, too!" Temari pointed a finger threateningly at her younger brother, "You've been avoiding her since we left the inn, and we are determined to not let you blow it!" Gaara let her finish her rant, hardly moving or blinking as he stared down at his sister as she beleaguered the last of her rant with clenched teeth.

"I have a headache and most of my current concentration is being focused on not throwing up on you right now." Temari and Kankuro exchanged glances. Kankuro hadn't drank nearly as much as Gaara, whose alcohol tolerance was far above the levels of his younger brother.

"Now if you will excuse me," Gaara's voice intoned that the conversation was over, "I am going to go stick my head in that stream that Tenten is getting our drinking water from." And with a look that dared his siblings to argue with him, Kazekage or not, he left in pursuit of the Weapon's Mistress and some much needed hydration.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: song for this one is Into the Sunshine by Julia Nunes….if you haven't checked her out on youtube, you should.

(o)

Gaara found the trickling stream and knelt beside its tranquil waters, wanting nothing more than to rid himself of his pounding headache and the occasional waves of nausea that swept over him. The creek served its purpose, and Gaara's felt much better once he splashed some cold water on his face. Squinting from the reflected light on the surface of the water, he gazed around the pastoral countryside, taking in the lush vegetation surrounding the brook with less irritated eyes. Gaara relaxed as he sat on the rocks beside the waters, giving himself a moment before heading back to his siblings. He was so relaxed he almost didn't feel Tenten's chakra signature behind him, and she sat next to him, completing the picturesque vision he had always kept in his mind if he were to ever actually take a vacation and kick back for a while.

He liked it, and it was torture just to be given the five minutes of perfection, no conversation, just them, alone, listening to the gentle rush of the creek waters, comfortable in the silence as they rested against the banks like they had been doing this their whole lives together. The gentle rays of the sun came out to kiss their deprived bodies of its warmth and Gaara felt a pang in his chest as he watched the sunshine dance in the edges of her hair, against the soft features of her face and down each slender limb. He craved her beauty, the simplicity of how amazing it was just to be near her, the proximity of her presence that nearly crushed his heart and made the beating in his chest louder at the same time: because that is what she knew he needed from him. She was the one that patiently waited for him to be ready: because he was always so pressured with the responsibilities of being the vessel for a two-tailed demon or the Kazekage. He never had time to just be a normal teenager, let alone a young adult. Here, she was offering a chance at normalcy, without a word ever being spoken, if only for a moment.

It was almost laughable how ordinary he wished his life was. How much he wanted an ordinary life with _her_. It almost frustrated him how hard she tried to blend into the background, to not stand out with shocking pink hair or a bitchy personality, so that she _would_ get overlooked. Perhaps it was so that she wouldn't get noticed until Gaara was ready for her. Certainly her talents as a kunoichi had served her well. The elder's selection for a partner for this mission was beyond the normal levels of regulation scrutiny, she just couldn't hide her exceptional talent if she tried. It was a miracle that he was partnered with her, considering how much effort she used to keep her best works under wraps. He watched her stare into the babbling waters wondering if she believed she was ordinary. She _tried_ to be an ordinary and plain. She _tried_, but to him, she stuck out like a rose amongst the thorns.

To him she was exceptionally _extraordinary_.

She could try as hard as she could to look mundane, even now, to blend in and not stick out, to play the part of an unassuming girl. But he would be drawn to her every time. It was as if his very soul was attracted to her, drawn and unable to keep itself from becoming intertwined with hers. It was a heat coming off of her, something that settled his core and shook it up all at the same time. She was becoming more of an addiction than anything else, consuming Gaara until he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and the once demon vessel wasn't sure he was ready to be wholly consumed again.

As pernicious as the bastard Shukaku was, his absence left Gaara bereft at times. It was something indescribable, because Gaara was happy that he was gone, but empty and lonely in a way he never thought he could feel lurking in the deep crevices of his mind. The transition Gaara made after his death was exactly that: like coming back from the dead. Gaara wasn't sure if he would be able to handle being with Tenten and then, if things were to not work out, have to deal with her loss.

Because death was one thing, but that might actually kill him.

It was this line of self-preservation that made him hesitant. Speech about his feelings on the tip of his tongue, but he remained laconic as usual, a ploy of procrastination that ate him up inside.

Gaara was always a man of few words, but there didn't seem to be enough words to explain anything to her.

So he didn't, he couldn't, and he lapped up the crux of the spance between them, knowing that the war in his mind about his non-explanation was killing the intimacy while he stood on the sidelines and let it all happen.

Sometimes doing nothing was worse than doing anything. Gaara knew the ramifications of these actions firsthand as leader of his village.

"It's almost noon," she broke the reverie, letting her words fall only loud enough for him to hear against the breeze.

Gaara remained reticent, looking up into the overhead sun to confirm her evaluation of time. He looked at her with expectation, and she looked at him, with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, "let's grab some lunch."

(O)

"When you said, 'let's grab some lunch,'" Gaara stated in the now knee-deep waters of the creek, "I didn't think you meant _literally_."

The two had traveled a bit further upstream to more virulent waters to find their desired food in the form of sun fish, just big enough to make a meal out of once caught. Gourd, shirt, sandals and pride left on the riverbanks, he was left to do something he had never had to do in his entire life: catch a meal with his bare hands.

The crazy kunoichi, whose idea this was in the first place, was demanding most of his attention as she was now in just an undershirt and shorts, placing her hands above the water in an anticipated crouch, waiting for her prey to swim by.

Sunshine trickled through some trees hovering tall over the side of the creek, and nearby a swarm of gnats hovered over the waters. Bugs, and nature in general, were not very familiar to the young Kazekage. He was used to dry earth, sand, and relentless amounts of scorching sun. Needless to say he was a bit out of his element, but the crazy look in the kunoichi's eye was well worth traipsing outside his comfort zone, if only out of sheer curiosity to see if her cockamamie idea would work. He eyed the bucket on the bank next to his gourd, thinking that no fish would be entering its meager confinements anytime soon.

Hands over the water with great concentration, she gathered chakra into her hands before plunging them into the water below, and to his amazement, because he totally thought she was pulling his leg, deftly pulled out a twitchy fish.

The fish was easily the size of two of her hand lengths, but Gaara scoffed at its size nonetheless. Any fish that size was certainly easy to catch, especially if one used chakra.

Tenten slipped the fish into the bucket and waded back out to the apprehensive Kazekage, who was now bound and determined to catch a bigger fish than the slender female also occupying the small stream.

Elbows locked in anticipation, he readied himself and struck out with chakra infused hands. The sudden "pop" sound was not lost on either ninja as he shifted the fish upwards, and the creature exploded as soon as it left the safety of the stream's waters. Viscera, scale, flesh and bone splattered against each of their chests in succession, causing them both to jump back and gasp at the slapping it made against their skin.

There was a moment of awed disgust as they took in the squib and the mess on their bodies, mouths agape, instinctively shaking out the bits of fish on their arms with a flick of their hands and wrists.

As Tenten pulled a fin off her cheek, she couldn't help but shudder with revulsion.

Staring at each other covered in chum, they began to laugh, pointing at each other with giddy amusement. This carried on, the musical laughter breaking the mission's tension, and they were free to enjoy the moment as it was: simply hilarious.

Gaara soberly approached Tenten, peering up at her with mirth in his eyes, although he did his best to hide it. Looking above her, he reached into her hair and plucked out a particle of the fish.

"You have an eye ball in your hair," and then he offered it to her, as if presenting her with a tick-tack. This quickly earned him a hard shove the chest and they both found themselves in an all out childish splash fight, complete with chakra induced slaps to the water and shameless dunking. Gaara had never horsed around and flirted like this with anyone before. He absolutely loved it.

Eventually, Temari and Kankuro found them, huddled closely together, both peering intently into the water, hands close one another's, ready to capture some fish after properly washing off the remnants of Gaara's latest catch during their rendezvous moments before.

With a quick lunge, Gaara had managed to grab one, only to intimately present the wiggling trophy to Tenten's face to get a rise out of her, another broad boyish smile on his face. Her reaction was girlish, in the form of a squeal and hands in defensive position as she tried to fend off the fish's swishing tail and head still in Gaara's outstretched hands as she back-peddled in the waters. When she fell backwards in a vulnerable position, Gaara decided that the fish was no longer his prey and opted to stalk the waterlogged kunoichi instead.

Kankuro and Temari simultaneous cleared their throats as the two were embraced in a heated kiss, just before hands started roaming in inappropriate places. Gaara snapped his head in their direction, a solid _piss off_ look clearly written on his face at their interruption.

Kankuro folded his arms across his chest and ignored the homicidal rage coming off of his brother for his lack of non-privacy, "Time to get going, Kazekage. We've got company."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: song: Breathe Into Me by Red

(O)

Instead of releasing the girl in his arms, he ended up griping her tighter at the news. A battle was certainly something he wanted to avoid, as protecting her proved more of a liability, and he didn't want the kunoichi to become collateral damage. Growing with irritability, he threw his things that had been discarded at the bank on, and Tenten was already pulling her hair back up when he buckled his baldric in place. Game face on, Gaara left her at the bank to consult with his siblings.

They flanked him, strategically going over best case scenarios and retreat tactics as they walked away from the bank as if scared that Tenten would overhear.

"Wait, wait, wait," Temari raised a hand as Kankuro spelled out a plan of attack that Temari was sure would only result in certain death for them. "Didn't you say that Tenten was apart of some tactician squad, like with Shikamaru or something?" The three siblings came to a halt, the boys peering at each other with a quizzical expression, then both pinning Temari with a the look of _why ask that now?_ Gaara nodded.

"We can't loose that sword, Gaara," Temari warned, "Tenten is our best bet for coming up with a tactic to get us out of this mess, especially if there is as many of them as Kankuro estimated."

After a pregnant pause, Gaara finally blinked as he thought it all over. "We can consult the kunoichi," he used his most controlled voice, arms across his chest with his usual regal manner.

They were on their way to turn to find her when she came up, all business, and presented them each with a soldier pill.

"Already got a plan, it involves us running to the boarders of Suna as fast as we can: the Council will have several small squads camped along the edges as our back up, if we are lucky we won't need another pill before we reach Suna territory." She pulled on her boots and quickly buckled them.

Temari looked in awe first at the soldier pill, then at the serious kunoichi presenting it to her. "We run?"

"If we stay and fight we either die or make an international incident, Suna has been unstable with its bordering countries since the fourth war, and any bloodshed outside of Suna will result in direct violation of the latest negotiations that the Kazekage has worked so hard to get them to sign this last year to dissolve. Suna won't take the loss of the Kazekage lightly and if Sound gets involved, everyone loses."

She stated all of this while putting on the last of her shinobi gear, strapping her scroll in place and donning her fingerless gloves, stating the answer to Temari's question as fact. Everyone stared at her with mild confusion. Tenten rolled her eyes. "What? You didn't think that your council was going to send me on the basis of just knowing my sharp, pointy weapons, did you?" Eyebrow raised, she met each of their eyes, and they only continued to stare at her with dumb awe. That was exactly what they thought. She let out an exasperated breath, "Let's go. Try and keep up, I don't want to babysit your asses. Move." More exchanged glances as the siblings glanced around at each other as if debating on weather or not to follow her orders. After a short pause, Gaara nodded for them to follow.

Kankuro looked at his sister and muttered deftly, "And I thought you were bossy," which was returned with a firm smack to his cat-eared head.

Without respite, the sand siblings followed and were soon trying their best to catch up to the kunoichi in question, who was not kidding when she said she moved fast, and somehow Gaara thought Lee might be to blame for her amazing speed. He would have to inquiry later, as his breathing turned heavy from how hard it was to trail her, not that he minded the view. She could easily run circles around them all, Kankuro having the hardest time keeping up as he struggled and lapsed behind them all.

They sped over hill and terrain, jumping in tree branches when available, but the shade of the lush foliage and the cover of the trees had long been lost after an hour after straight running. This was a bit of a relief, as it was a sign to Gaara that Suna was not far ahead. After three hours with no break, Tenten broke from her spot at the front to pull Kurasu off of Kankuro's back before throwing him her canteen and plucking up the lead again. Kankuro looked grateful and miserable at the same time. The action of receiving help from a female gave him feelings of being feckless and the notion set his mouth in a grim frown, as he plied on to keep up with the rest of the covey, his grumbling lost in concentration to keep up.

After five hours of straight running, Tenten called for a small break, reminding everyone to stretch and rehydrate. Five minutes to rest was all she was going to give them before starting back up again.

Kankuro crashed first in a rugged-breathing-sweat-dampened heap next to his brother who was determined to keep his decorum despite how much he wanted to suck in air at alarming rates.

"She doesn't even look winded. I think I hate her." Kankuro rasped with distain before dousing himself with the rest of water from a canteen.

Gaara watched her stretch with Temari, taking note of her limber extremities and the way she interacted with his sister, as if she was _her_ sister. This seemingly unassuming girl was part of Shikamaru's tactician squad. How had he forgotten that?

They were back running at top speed a few short minutes later, the borders of Suna approaching quickly. Gaara was happy to see half of the visage of his former Sensei, Baki, once they crossed the borders, as Temari clutched the stitch in her side as she caught her breath. Soldier pill or not, running that fast for that long was a bitch.

"Gaara," Baki greeted the Kazekage, "I just called the others from the boarder to join us here," he informed as Tenten dropped Karasu off in front of a supine Kankuro, spread eagle in the sand, heaving loudly each breath he took in.

He took Tenten aside and she briefed the man, whose only response was a head nod. With no question to the leaf-nin, he turned to Gaara, clearly impressed, although one would have had to know him for years in order to read it on his otherwise expressionless half face.

"I don't want her here," Gaara explained to the wind-user as his eyes roamed over the object of which he was speaking, "this isn't her war."

"No," Baki replied easily, "but she is in charge of this mission, and technically she outranks you right now. She is operating under the orders of the Council." He motioned for a trio of shinobi to come over to them with a hand wave, and Baki focused his attention on Gaara as much as the approaching ninjas.

"Escort the Kazekage to the tower, he will need to report to the council right away, protect him at all costs." The group saluted with a loud, "Hai!" and Baki nodded in return and looked over to Gaara who seemed to think that impaling him with the nearest object might relinquish some of the hate he harbored for the man in that moment for insisting that Tenten stay and fight despite his clear antipathy to the notion. Mission to complete or not, Gaara wanted her no where near battles of any kind. Baki sensed his irritation, far too familiar with the killing intent rolling off of him in waves to be properly distraught.

"We won't be so outnumbered once our back up arrives, go." Baki's words did not assure him that everything was going to go over smoothly, but resisting orders from the council would ultimately cause unrest amongst the ranks. He had no choice but to obey.

The trek to the tower was short time-wise, but long considering every step he made only created more distance between them, leaving him only with the worries that he wouldn't be there to protect her, and that she really shouldn't be fighting for his country to begin with: she wasn't from Suna, and asking her to die for his country seemed blasphemous, yet a part of his heart was proud that she was willing to put her own life on the line for the country he loved. Gaara's conflicting emotions got the better of him, and he could feel the chakra pool into his palms like it did in the wading waters of the stream, building into a tension enough to explode another fish if presented with one between his hands.

The elders of the council assembled, even before Gaara could properly catch his breath, eager for the reports of the waging war on their eastern boarders and anxious to see the Sword of Prosperity safely where it belonged on Suna land. The meeting wasn't brief, and Gaara was eager to get back into the fray, but he also knew as Kazekage, running headlong into a battle would be unwise, even if his heart remained there with his precious people.

Sometimes he hated being the Kazekage.

A few short hours after the Council assembly seemed an eternity for Gaara, even though he was bogged down with paperwork and other meetings, face after face demanding his attention on a foreign matter or some other obsequious matter occupied his time and served to distract him. Then another unknown presented himself with news, someone other than Baki to report about the ensuing battles on outskirts of Suna, which only served to heighten the awareness that something deep inside his gut wretched involunarily inside.

The unknown shinobi hobbled into the room and bowed lowly, field dressing on his right arm, marred with miscellaneous scrapes and bruisings.

The report was disparaging: heavy losses on both sides and Gaara inquired about the Leaf kunoichi that headed the operation, his siblings, and Baki.

He only reported that all survivors had been taken directly to the hospital, and Gaara nodded to the soldier and told him to report there as well so that he could also receive medical attention.

The battle had been brutal and savage, Suna eventually able to keep the borders free of unwanted mercenaries from slipping inside and exploiting the proximity of the sword and pilfering the treasured item back, but Gaara viewed it as a rather Pyrrhic victory. He nodded to his assistant, who knew instinctually that he would need to take a leave of absence and forged his way to the hospital, forming a sand platform to fly him there in all of his haste.

The front desk was empty as medical personnel raced hurriedly from room to room shouting orders and scurrying around IV stands and wheeling bleeding patients from one room to another. Kankuro stood at the receptions counter, holding a palm to his bleeding head as he waited for someone to validate his vulgar rantings. As a nurse walked by, he angrily announced that he wanted to see his sister and he would start tearing the place apart if someone didn't help him find her soon. The puppeteer stumbled as he raised his voice, already teetering from lack of blood, sprinkles of the crimson liquid splattering against the mottled white tiles below him as he struggled for purchase, spouting off an array of verbal diarrhea complete with crude visual hand gestures and equally disturbing threats.

The startled nurse helped Gaara catch him before any more cranial damage was done, and she set about the task of swathing his head wound before the idiot ended up either slipping on a puddle of his own blood, or just passing out from lack of it to his brain.

Gaara watched the nurse fuss over her brother's bandages, slapping his hand hard when he tried to remove the efforts of her ministrations, and she further explained as she checked his brother over for any other injuries that Temari received some internal bleeding that could only be taken care of in surgery, which was where she was now. Gaara nodded, then queried about any leaf-nin coming through, or any signs of Baki. The nurse replied that Baki had been unconscious when he had been admitted, and that she hadn't seen any sign of any leaf-nin, but he could look at the registry on the clipboard if that would be any help to him, or riffle through the lost and found box behind the desk.

It was a plain crate, not a box really, full of anything found that was not identifiable to a specific ninja so that people like Gaara might have some closure if they found a personal effect that had been bloodied and discarded on the battlefield. The contents usually held something like a necklace or a kunai that had initial on it or something else that another ninja had not pilfered, finding it too personal to use or be caught with.

As Gaara spied the edge of the crate, Kankuro broke the gravity of the moment with a startled, "I didn't see the butterfly, that's why I ate the chopstick," before passing out.

The nurse, who was taking the man's temperature at the time, deftly swore under her breath before explaining to Gaara that the man had hallucinated from a dangerous lack of chakra and blood and called for a crash cart. In a flurry of orderlies strong enough to lift his brother, Gaara was left by himself, once again staring at the edge of the desk, almost unwilling to rummage through the box for proof that the girl in question was no longer alive.

One careful step closer and the light reflected a shiny metal glaring brightly into Gaara's eyes. He suspected the object to be of importance since he was determined to further investigate what the object was that had caused such a penetrating gleam. Another step revealed that it was a metal plate of a hitai-ate. He slowly picked up the saturated cloth pinned with metal. The scuffing around the edges and the smell of the coppery liquid saturating the navy blue clothe caused the Kazekage to tense all at once, unable to draw his next breath.

It was a leaf forehead protector.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Song: Another Day by Pomplamoose (Nataly Dawn and Jack Conte) they are awesome. Check them out on youtube. Waste by Foster the People…only cuz that is the song that I have been listening to nonstop today.

(o)

Gaara felt a distinct constriction in his chest, followed by a rushing in his ears. The cloth and metal clanged softly on the floor as he fought to breathe and gasp silently for air.

This wasn't happening.

More rushing in his ears as blurred colors clouded his vision. He was vaguely aware that he might be suffering from shock, perhaps dehydration and low chakra levels from running earlier. The murderous intent running off of him to incinerate all parties responsible for her death clouded over his better judgment, and he felt what little of his chakra was left overwhelm his head, leaking out in all directions to decimate everyone in his path.

He would find and kill them all.

Just as he was making his way to exit the building, Isago stopped him with a wide-eyed look of fear.

"Temari, Kankuro, Baki," he asked with worry and shock, "did one of them not make it?"

"They are all badly injured." The Kazekage nearly snarled. Even in Gaara's rage, something about the man seemed out of place. He knew that he had been in the front lines with them, so the man should have sported more injuries than a bandaged forearm.

"Where is your hitai-ate?" he suddenly demanded of the turbaned shinobi.

"My lord," he explained with a deep bow, "The young Leaf-Nin requested it before giving her speech on the battlefield."

Something clicked in Gaara's brain, releasing all of the built up tension, "What?"

"The young Leaf kunoichi asked me for my hitai-ate before the battle began, she took hers off and tied that one around her head stating her loyalty to you, Kazekage-sama."

He bowed again lowly. "She took a blow for me in battle; I am here to make sure she recovers, as I owe her my life."

"Take me to her," came his reply after his heart began to beat normally again, and they both entered the hospital.

The hospital seemed to quiet down at this point, nurses and doctors were no longer shifting bleeding patients between rooms or carting them into surgery. Tenten was eventually found, taking over for a nurse who asked her to look over Baki and make sure he wouldn't leave unexpectedly after he woke up, as was his habit no matter what condition he arrived in. His former sensei just didn't know the concept of "stay put or rupture your spleen."

"Go take a break," Tenten assured her, "my head is fine," she patted her swathed head with a smile, but the nurse gave her a dubious look, "take a break while you can, it's gunna be a long night." Tenten squeezed the nurse's hand to comfort her, reassuring her that she could handle the sleeping sand-nin and then shooed her out the door, not turning enough to see Gaara and Isago waiting to enter Baki's room.

They entered the small room, and Tenten stood and bowed respectively, "Kazekage-sama," she stated reverently, and turned to Isago stating his name, earning a bow from him as well. Gaara fought the urge to grab a hold of her and shake her like a child that had disobeyed their parent before a life threatening circumstance. Yet, somehow, he was just grateful that she was alive.

Formalities aside, Gaara uncrossed his arms, revealing the hitai-ate he had retrieved from the floor in front of front desk.

"You had me worried," he confessed in a much harsher tone than he had anticipated. She shifted to hand Isago his Suna hitai-ate and Isago received it, turning to take his leave after both exchanging head nods. Suna shinobi were proud, and hopefully the aphonic display was taken as a sign of gratitude for saving the man's life. Her nodding back definitely seemed like it did.

"My apologies, Isago, for not handing it to you in the condition you entrusted me."

"I'll send you my dry cleaning bill." He stated with a serious tone, but the wink let him know he was giving her a hard time, just like he would any comrade on the field who he would take a kunai to the face for. She had earned the man's respect and trust. Gaara was impressed.

"Isago," Gaara commanded with a hard stare the kunoichi, "I need to speak to the Leaf-nin for some time. Take her spot and make sure Baki stays put."

"Hai, Kazekage-sama," Isago confirmed the order. Gaara nodded to the kunoichi, who directed him down the hall to where his sister was recovering from surgery.

Temari looked pale and small on a seemingly large bed; the dim lights blinking ominously only enhanced her pallid features. Tenten immediately stole over to her side to brush the errant strands of sunny hair away, a tenderness in her fingers that Gaara wished he could posses. She hunted through cupboard and drawer until she found a washcloth. Dampened and wrung out, she began to wipe his sister's face of all the crusted blood on the corners of her mouth and mop the dried and wet salt from her forehead and cheeks. Her hands worked nimbly like any seasoned mother, but with serene genteel warmth that only a close friend would employ. Gaara's heart constricted at the simple kind act and flashes of her bending down to wipe a small redhead's face of dinner crossed his thoughts so quickly he couldn't keep a small smile from forming at the pleasing thought.

"Who would have ever thought you two would become friends after the first chunin exams."

Tenten simply smiled that comfortable smile that he let his guard down for, the one she used when she was truly comfortable with him.

"She can still kick my ass, no doubt," came the reply, even as she was tenderly tucking Temari in, and adjusting her pillow for optimum comfort.

Gaara shook his head with derision, but let the comment pass without arguing further. Gaara moved his way to hold his sisters hand and tenderly squeeze it, all the while hoping he wouldn't crush it under the weight of all the emotions manifesting from leaky chakra. Before they could settle into a comfortable silence, she directed him down the hall again to where Kankuro was recovering.

Matsuri of all people was found next to him, washing the bunraku facial paint off of him while he drooled peacefully into his pillow. Tenten and Matsuri seemed to exchange some kind of silent female information with a look, and Gaara nodded his approval of his brother's caregiver before he followed Tenten back out into the hallway.

They were silent as she followed him all the way across town back to his private chambers off of his office, his assistant long past gone as the evening worn on. He nearly slammed her up against the double doors as they clicked shut, startling her out of the sobering hospital visits.

His breath in her ear, she stilled as they let the proximity of their bodies meld into one, moving slowly, with hesitant arms reaching out to touch the other. The lights weren't even on overhead, and yet the ginger glow streaking from the window pane became as welcomed as the heat radiating between the two. So much unspoken, and yet so much said with just the little amount of touch and the look of their eyes.

"I thought I lost you," came torn from his lips in a raspy whisper. He ghosted pale fingers over the wisps of her bangs, then repeated a desperatly hushed, "I thought I lost you."

The setting sun settled upon them, casting an orange haze over the contents of the office letting it suffuse onto her soft features.

"Stay," he let out again, closing his eyes letting his forehead bump against hers. He let it linger there, rolling over hers before he whispered in her ear again, "with me. Stay with me. Don't go." He instinctually held her closer, "please."

Her reaction to his supplication was to finally end his torture and sink her lips onto his. All of the weight of the day seemed to melt away, and constrict him at once as he held her close and poured out his love over her, kissing her every place her exposed flesh met his eyes. His chakra leaked out again, exposing his true intentions for her, with her, as his mouth was other wise engaged in maneuvering it over her skin, egged on by the soft moans she emitted from nipping at the tender flesh.

At some point she stopped being docile against his "attacks" and started playing dirty by slamming him up against the door and taking a dominating role as her mouth overtook his and his brain began to cease its higher functions and pure instinct and hormones kicked in.

Now they were fighting for dominance as his hands moved her back against the doors, then she managed to turn the tables and in swift movements he was on top of her on his desk somehow, hearing the sound of fabric tearing, unable to care weather is was hers or his. Something fell off his desk and shattered, and in the back of his mind he was happy that it was probably that atrocious vase some foreign dignity insisted reside there. It was a particularly obnoxious shade of hideous he sometimes couldn't stomach most mornings, and moved his stack of paperwork in front of it just so he could get through his day with out throwing up on irreplaceable documents or killing people. He would have to thank her later for that one.

Another moan from her and Gaara found it almost incapable of caring exactly where they were going to do this, as long as they got to, and soon. His mouth found her sternum and hungrily licked and teased it as his hands worked the fastens on her shirt.

Loud knocking on the door sobered them into producing flying weapons and curses in its direction.

Gaara nearly shouted at the blasphemous interruption, and eyed the bedroom off his office, the sanctuary and chambers he normally used after he finally resigned to call it a night after a long day of meetings, paperwork and other such taxing chores.

The loud thrumming was hard to ignore. So was the voice that announced that Baki, Temari, and Kankuro were all awake and asking to see him.

Well didn't they just have perfect timing. Never before had he wanted to kill someone for regaining consciousness. Even those three.

He fought the urge to call through the door to give them an extra dose of morphine and he would be there in a bit. The kunoichi squirmed underneath him with glint of lust in her eyes. Ok make that some time next week.

But the knocking continued. So did the shouting. Gaara fought a homicidal wave that threatened to take out every living thing in the vicinity as it raged with impatience with in him and he somehow managed to calmly and not threateningly answer that he would be there as soon as he was able.

"Go," she insisted. "I will be here when you get back."

A sudden rush of fear washed over him, and he struck out with words before he had even realized, "but after today, you can't leave after today. I need you here. Beside me. From now on."

She got up from his desk and kissed him passionately, as if it were one of many times she would assure him with out a doubt that she would be with him, no matter what.

"Let's go together." She offered taking his hand for more comfort. He nodded.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

And together, they walked hand in hand back to the hospital, knowing that today wasn't just the ending of the mission, it was the beginning of a new start for both of them.


End file.
